Crave
by Yurifan666
Summary: They crave for one another's love, but neither seem willing to go the extra mile - until a little alcohol is introduced. *Warning - this contains sexual activities between father and son; don't like, don't read.


He didn't want to be here, not with him. Not with the Assassin who was taking the lives of his close friends. Yet, he couldn't find the back bone to walk away from his son.

They sat close, a little too close, in front of a warm fire. As minutes that felt like hours drawled on, Haytham finally withdrew a small flask. He was tired, cold, and all around agitated about the fact Connor was clinging to him like an obsessed girlfriend. From the moment they joined forces, it seemed as if Haytham only found himself alone if he was relieving himself. His son even insisted on sleeping together - for warmth, he claimed.

And so, he finally broke down and decided a quick swig from his flask would steel his nerves enough to finally say something. However, no matter that one swig turned into one, two, then too many to count, Haytham still found his lips sealed save to accept more alcohol. But why? He was quick with his tongue in any other circumstance, whether bribing or seducing, yet when he faced the idea of telling his son to fuck off he found himself desperate to say the opposite.

He hated the damn Assassin and every glance at him sent shivers down his spine; shivers of hate, mind you. He desired so badly to throw the boy down, rough him up, make him scream his name and beg for mercy. And while these thoughts often ran through most Templar's minds when thinking of the Assassins, particularly Connor, Haytham found them running rampant in a much different way recently. Through their time together, throwing the boy down turned into climbing atop him, Connor's screams turned from pain to pleasure, and instead of begging for mercy, Haytham often imagined hot whispers of 'Father, more,' ricocheting in his mind.

Shivers shook throughout Haytham once more and he washed it away with more alcohol. He felt irresponsible for drinking during an important mission, but was confident in his skills to defend and attack.

"Father, are you cold? Perhaps you shouldn't drink too much; we will be waking early to continue our journey," Connor lectured, scooting a little closer. When Haytham flinched slightly, Connor attempted to ease him. "I'm only hoping to keep you warm," Connor whispered as he moved closer still.

"It'd be warmer under the blankets," Haytham commented, then cursed himself mentally.

"Shall we retire to our tent then, Father?" Connor offered, getting up as if it were already decided.

Haytham followed his son into their shared tent and lay with his son, their bodies pressed close in the tight space. The pair lay quietly, neither men willing to strike up a conversation in fear of an argument they were too tired to win but too stubborn to lose.

"Are you still cold?" Connor asked, his voice unnatural in the quiet night.

"It'ss winter; of course, I'm cold," Haytham retorted, his words only slightly slurred.

Connor turned to face him, his face barely visible but Haytham spotted the blush decorating the native's face nonetheless. "We could...um, get closer, for warmth, if you'd like."

Any other night, Haytham would have refused, but with his walls slightly drowned with alcohol, he found himself agreeing before he could thoroughly think it through. He'd just agreed to cuddle with his son; the very one he'd been staring at and thinking about far too often. The one that he often found himself dreaming about in many situations from sex to a normal home life - well, as normal as being a lover to your son could be. The one he regrettably had started to love as everything but his son.

As their bodies conformed to one another, Haytham found his thoughts speeding towards it's usual topic of Connor. And as the alcohol gladly reminded itself, those thoughts were all but pure. As Haytham thought of the Assassin, he began to wonder in the back of his mind if he'd ever lain with anyone before. Being as bold as he was, he saw absolutely no harm in asking. "Boy, have you ever bedded a woman?"

"W-what?!" Connor sputtered out, his cheeks burning as he stared at his father incredulously. "What, I mean how, how could I even...I mean...but…" Connor struggled for words, then grumbled out, "Father, you're drunk, go to sleep."

"I take that as a no," Haytham hummed, enjoying the fuel added to the fire. So his son was a virgin; only meaning he was all the more sensitive to any new pleasures that could be introduced to him. And who better to teach him than his dearest father? "Do you have any interest in such...activities?"

"Father, please, go to sleep! I have no interest in women!" Connor snapped as he turned from his father.

"Ah, so you have an interest in men, hm?" Haytham practically purred as he pressed himself flush against the younger Kenway, his member pressing hard against his son.

Connor bit his lip sharply to stifle a gasp of surprise, lest it be taken for pleasure. "F-father," Connor began slowly, "You are more drunk than I thought. I-I think it'd...it'd be in both of our best interests...if...if you," Connor breathed heavily as his father ground his hips into him over and over. Connor's words died on his lips as Haytham pressed wet kisses along his exposed neck and trailed them to his ear where he bit softly.

"I don't mind if you have a preference for men," Haytham whispered huskily as his hips collided with Connor's backside once more.

Connor grunted in response, his body taking up it's own will as he found himself pressing closer to Haytham. Haytham chuckled, please with his son's response. Slowly, Haytham wrapped his arms around the boy and snaked them beneath his clothing to caress whatever skin he could. Connor sighed in pleasure at this; the touches like nothing he'd ever experienced before. "Father," Connor spoke, sounding as if he were pleading for more when he had intended to sound warning. "St-stop," he moaned out as Haytham's wandering hands began to slide lower and lower.

Haytham closed his hand around Connor's hardened flesh, "Hm, so it seems you do have a preference," Haytham teased as he slowly pumped his hand.

"Don't do this," Connor breathed out, though he didn't mean a single word. He'd never voice his true desires, but they both knew Connor didn't suggest sleeping together at night because of the cold. They'd both had their share of cold nights alone - yet, the strange comfort they brought each other was undeniably there as they slept in one another's arms. Even if it was scorching out, Haytham had a feeling that Connor would've found any excuse to be in bed with his father.

Haytham removed his son's clothing slowly due to his fear of scaring the kid off. Afterall, he was a virgin. When Connor lay naked beside him, he felt another shiver rack through his body, stronger than ever before. Deep within his mind, he finally caught wind of what the shivers were truly made of - want and lust.

As Haytham continued to stroke his son, he carefully slickened up his fingers with his own saliva. When he felt Connor was comfortable enough, judging by his mewling, Haytham removed his hand in order to undress himself. Once both men were naked under the furs, he pressed his cock to Connor's backside and relished in the gasp that escaped the younger's lips. Haytham wrapped his hand around Connor's cock once more and smirked at the Assassin's poor attempts to hide his pleasured noises. This was just what he wanted; to make the prideful Connor moan for him. All he desired now was to hear his name. He wanted his son to scream for him to the heavens, to lose himself as he fucked the boy senseless and left only raw pleasure to be felt. He wanted to be intimate with his son in every way imaginable and he could find no shame in it in his loosened state.

As Haytham pressed his finger to Connor's hole, the native immediately tensed. "What are you doing?" Connor commanded, though his voice dripped with pleasure and need.

"Nothing, don't mind me," Haytham replied snarkily. Connor turned partly to face his father, only to yelp in his face as Haytham forced his finger inside. As soon as Haytham saw Connor's mouth fall open, he jumped on the chance to molest the boy further as he kissed him passionately. The Templar pushed his tongue deep into the boy's mouth and groaned when Connor greeted his tongue with just as much vigor. Their kiss was hot, lustful, and full of pent up, carnal desire for one another. As they kissed, Haytham continued to press his finger in and out, slowly adding more digits as he stretched the boy for his length.

"Father," Connor moaned into the kiss, then moaned loudly in pleasure when Haytham crooked his fingers and stroked the sweet spot buried within. "Oh, more," Connor begged as he greedily bucked his hips back and kissed his father with renewed fervor.

Haytham obliged all too willingly as he relentlessly stroked the other's prostate. "Would you truly like more?" Haytham whispered huskily, although he knew Connor wouldn't know what that entitled.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice barely a whisper as his stomach clenched tighter.

Haytham pulled his fingers out and took pride in the whimper Connor let out. "Beg," he commanded as he lined his cock up with the stretched hole. "Beg like the dirty whore you are," Haytham bit his neck lewdly as he made his command.

"Ahh, F-father," Connor shivered at the feeling of his own flesh and blood at his entrance. But he would not beg, he couldn't allow himself to. But as Haytham continued to manipulate his body with harsh bites, soft kisses, and pleasuring strokes, Connor found himself ready to beg the Devil if he had to. "Please, Haytham, take me," Connor moaned out finally, the words barely out of his mouth before Haytham buried himself inside.

Connor screamed in pain, his body tensing up tightly and squeezing painfully around Haytham's cock. Haytham loved to see his son in pain, but made a mental note to go slower next time, lest the boy suffocate him with his heat and unbearable tightness. "Ease up, boy," Haytham grunted as he attempted to pull himself out.

Connor shivered at the strange feeling of someone inside him; of his father inside him. Connor slowly eased himself into relaxation, his muscles loosening and his body going slack as the pain ebbed from a sharp throb to a dull nuisance. Connor ground his hips back in a gesture to let the Templar know he was ready, and instantly found himself a hot mess. Haytham, by no means, knew the meaning of holding back.

He pulled out, then pushed himself back in relentlessly. He pounded into his son mercilessly, their bodies rocking back and forth frantically from the mere force of Haytham's powerful thrusts. In no time, Connor was practically screaming out in pleasure. But when the screams remained of only 'Oh, yes,' and 'Father, oh, Father,' Haytham found himself craving to hear his name more than before. He didn't want his son to think of him as his dad, but as Haytham. He simply wanted to be everything and anything to the boy, but his damned father.

"Say my name," he growled out as bucked his hips with more force than necessary. Connor cried out in pain, but raw pleasure still danced about his vocals.

Unlike before, Connor was ready to submit to the elder man. "Haytham, Haytham!"

Haytham groaned in response and pulled out quickly. As Connor was about to protest, Haytham roughly turned the boy to lay on his back as he climbed over him, their chests and cocks pressed tightly together. Connor instinctively wrapped his legs around his father's hips and pulled him all the closer, desperate to feel every inch of Haytham pressed against him. Connor breathed heavily, his eyes half lidded, and face a deep red underneath his father. Haytham didn't think the boy could look any better.

He pressed in once more, this time setting a more moderate pace as he locked lips with Connor. They kissed lovingly, as if they were long lost soul mates on a honeymoon rather than a father and son hunting down a man.

Connor pulled away to whisper, "I lo-"

"Don't," Haytham snapped before the boy could finish. "Don't say that," he whispered as he began to fuck his son forcefully and hungrily. As much as he wanted to hear the words, he knew that they could mean the end to his motives of killing the Assassin. Despite everything, he trusted his gut in telling him that it could come down to nothing more than one of them dying by the other's hands. As much as he craved Connor, he knew this was all he could get.

Haytham kissed him, his tongue dominating and smothering in Connor's mouth. He wrapped his rough hand around Connor's member once more, pumping in unison with his thrusts. Connor gasped at the added pleasure and threw his head to the side, only to leave his neck at the mercy of the Templar. Haytham decorated the dark skin with rosy marks and hoped they'd stay, if only to let others know that Connor belonged to someone. Belonged to him.

As Haytham's thrusts grew more unsteady and more needy, he suddenly found himself murmuring nonsense to his son. He hated and regretted every word he said, but found the words pouring out at their own accord as his hot seed filled the inexperienced man.

"H-Haytham!" Connor screamed out in raw pleasure, his eyes wide at the words whispered in his ear and the sensation of being so filled. He came hard, his cum splattering against his chest and a few rebel beads against his father's. As their breaths slowed and the tent fell into silence once more, Connor once again broke it with his soft voice. "I-I love you, too, Haytham."

**AN: Sorry if Haytham was slightly OOC, I kind of feel like he was -o- anyhow, this couple needs more love. And I give 'em all my love. (Okay, not all, there's other couples but they have a hefty portion!)**

Anyhow, thanks for reading!


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